The Sacrifice
by AlexHamato
Summary: "If I can't protect my brother, who takes so much shit from us and puts it on himself, than I don't deserve to live." - A sacrifice to replace that, which is spotless and pure, for a soul that is tainted and fearful.


_This was inspired by a scene in an anime. That awe-inspiring and epic anime is called One Piece, which is owned by Oda Eiichiro. I can only hope to managed pulling off that level of awesomeness in this little one-shot. I figured that the Turtles are pretty epic themselves, and so it would be blended well. The art for this cover is done by:_

_ Blood Reaper by ~gegig on deviantART _

_I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Nickelodeon does._

* * *

It was that damn white mask that boiled his blood. A face painted on it like some tribal beast. Raphael couldn't see the eyes behind that mask. The bastard was hiding from him, but standing right before him. At it's feet was his brother. The one who almost got them out of this fucking mess. Instead robes that looked like the damn shadows themselves hovered over him.

He hated magic.

"Don't touch him," Raph snarled, "You're too pathetic. You don't know shit about him. About us."

The black, robed figure did not move. Only the mask tilted towards Raph, now. The shapeless robes gave no body to whatever that thing was. It made the crimson sky and broken stone around them look surreal. Like none of this was really happening, but he knew better. Raph understood that his brother was going to die if he did nothing. If he didn't get his damned body to start moving again.

"I liked this mask of mine." A shadowed hand rose to point to an obvious crack that ran alongside the middle of it. "Now I have to get a new one. I'll carve it out of the bones of Leonardo."

Talks just like a human. But it wasn't. It was a liar.

"Don't - "

That impossibly long, lightless hand gripped his brother's head. The fingers creating a prison of shadow around his face. "Wait! Stop!" Body lurched forward only enough to send him back on his stomach, so that he could force trembling arms to push himself on his hands and knees. Like some damned dog. "Don't take him. Why do you want him, anyways? What do you want with him?"

"His soul. It is strong. It will satisfy my hunger." The white mask stared down at him again, expressionless. Unmoving. "I am so, so very hungry."

Of course his brother was strong. He was the only man he would follow. The only one that took everything on his shoulders, that bore the pain of everybody. The burdens. But not this time.

"Yeah, you're right." Breaths came in heavy, raspy bursts. He lifted a knee, to put a single foot back on the ground. "He's strong." A hand pushed off that knee, the weight crushed him. Made his bones creak as he rose. "But I'm not going to let you take him." Stumbling, just slightly, as his body became unbalanced in his attempt to stand. He regained his composure and stood.

"You're going to take me instead."

The hand released his brother and disappeared back into the wispy robes like a strand of black smoke. Amusement laced the tone of the disembodied voice as it echoed across the barren wasteland and red skies, "And why would I do that?"

Raphael rose his head and said, "Because I am the man that will kick your ass."

"You claim to defeat me, do you? When this man claimed the same and failed?"

"I - "

Crackling stone sounded to his right side along with a sharp, bitter voice that said,"Don't take that idiot."

Approaching them was another brother. Blood and deep, purple bruises swarmed one of his arms. He did not favor that side as he walked. Raph snarled as his brother stood by his side and said, "This isn't your business, Don. You're not doing this."

His brother ignored him, his calculating eyes reading the smokey figure before them. "He may have the head and body of a bull, but I'm the one that is going to surpass you."

Donatello took a step before him, seeming to shield him from the smokey bastard like he needed protecting. Like he was the one that should to go ahead; to die.

Raphael wouldn't allow his brother that. He would not let a better brother die in his stead. With his weapon still sheathed at his side, he pulled out the bladed Sai and slammed the hilt to the base of his brother's head. Don collapsed.

"If you're so sure that you want to take his place, you have to take his pain as well. All of the suffering that has been inflicted upon him. That is the only way to truly take his place."

The smoke engulfed Leonardo, then. Raph stepped over his fallen brother's form, refusing to allow whatever this bastard is, near him. It won't take any of them away from him.

"Why would you do this for them?"

Raphael walked forward as his eyes were trained on the brilliant red haze that began to be seeped from his brother. Slashes muscles were closed, heavy bruises were cleared, and charred flesh was smoothed. All of the injuries that his brother took to protect them were fading.

He stopped before the haze, not reaching out to it. He stood and said, "If I can't protect my brother, who takes so much shit from us and puts it on himself, than I don't deserve to live."

"Well said." Black smoke grew as a thundering storm and engulfed him. The raw power made his teeth buzz. "You will die for them. A noble sacrifice always has the most taste. The most delicious quality of a soul."

"I know my fate. I know that I'm going to die." Raph raised his eyes to challenge the storm and said, "I accept anyways, you fucking demon. Take me to hell and be done with it, already!"

The haze came, then. And the screams began as lightening to the thunder.

* * *

Dry, chalky dust coated the inside of his mouth. The back of his head throbbed compulsively, reminding him again and again of how he obtained the new injury. More shame added to his failure to convince the demon, no – the _shinigami_ otherwise.

His arm was useless to him. Donatello favored his good side as he pushed himself to his knees, and then stumbled to his feet. A thick sheen of sweat, blood, and dirt caked his skin in dried cracks. He was too late. The beaten warrior staggered forward enough to see the uninjured figure of his brother lying on his back. The relaxed face was peaceful. Sleeping.

"Raph," he croaked. He had to keep moving. He had to find his brother.

Using the surrounding stone debris as leverage, Don managed to haul his slumbering brother over his injured shoulder. He could hear the bone and cartilage crack and groan even further from the weight, but he ignored it. Donatello didn't have time to feel the pain.

The air was hot and dry. There was an overlying odor that saturated the air. An organic, metallic smell that he could easily recognize as blood. And it was getting stronger.

"Raphael!" Blistered feet shuffled along the sharp edges of the volcanic stone. He could identify the obsidian shards that lay innocently amidst the rubble. The weight of his brother was weighing him down enough to make his movement slow and lethargic, but he would never forgive himself if he dropped him now. Not after what Raph did for him. What he gave.

"Be alive, damn it. You can't die, you selfish bastard." His words didn't carry far since the thick air seemed to devour every syllable that he spoke. "I am not leaving this place without your stubborn ass by my side."

Donatello followed the thick stench of blood. It wasn't until his feet slipped along a now slippery surface that his eyes were pulled downward, to see the crimson splashes along the jaded rocks. His stomach leaped upwards into his mouth and his mind was trapped in senseless calculations of volume and area spread. How much he had to have lost. How much he would have left.

How much of a chance there was for survival.

"_Raph_!" Weight was meaningless as his legs flew across the slippery rocks, the crimson sky only amplifying his increasing anxiety. Heart pounded in his head and flushed his skin. He needed to move faster. He had to be close. The blood was getting warmer, more fresh, and in greater quantities.

Debris was broken down in smaller bits, now. As if a great wind or force shattered and spread the stone outward, away from the source. It reminded him of the aftermath of a grenade. He stood along the ridge of a crater with the crimson stains scouring the entire area. It was all too much. Too much for anybody to survive. His eyes burned at the sight, and the stench.

"Raph." His feet slid down the sharp daggers of stone and blood. "What happened? What did this to you?"

A pillar of blood stood before him. Scraps of green flesh were darkened by bruises and the blackened char of burnt skin. His brother's arms were crossed before his chest with his legs standing strong and head held high. "Nothing," he said, "Nothing at all."

* * *

**A/N - I really tried to find a way to go AROUND that final line that Raph had, but I just couldn't. The character who originally said the words got it right the first time. There was no possible way I could construe those words to have a better impact. Heh. I was originally going to put this in my Turtle Soup series, because it's so short - but... I freaking love anime. This has such an MANGA/ANIME feel to it that I thought it would have to go on it's own. Especially since it sounds a lot different than my other stuff. Feedback would be awesome, since I'm interested to see how people take this more dramatic characterization of the turtles. That and there - what? NO MIKEY!? That's absurd! Especially since he's my most-written character. Heh. But alas! There is no Mikey. So sad.**


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